The Arkansaw traveler., 1887-12-03

With an lndlfferent manner, which had apparently become mechanical from long and futile use. "Estelle, don't you think pop-ah had better get on bo-, ahem," (suddenly remembering my presence) ''into the train?"
 "Say, pop-ah, you're to get aboard. Mom-ah says so"
 Estelle turned and gave him a clutch.
 "Quitl Mom-ah, Polly's pinching me-"
 Glare from Estelle. "Nasty, hate ful thing. Pll tell everyone your names Polly, and you make believe it's Sicily. Say, mister" (to mel ''her real name's-a sudden stoppage as the bag of sweets is offered to him, with an appealing look from Estelle. "I know how to get 'em to pungle the caramels, don't IF"
 The bell rings; there is a quick banging of doors, the guard raises his hand to start the train.
 "Webster, call pop-ah," cries mamma.
 "Hil Pop. You'll get lefti"
 "The atmospheric temperature lacks the required chill to precipitate such an untoward event." quietly remarks paterfdmiltaS, as he swings himself in and seats himself next his wife, as the train begins to move.
 "Winny's left !" suddenly exclaims mamma with gasp, when the train emerges from the roofed station into daylight.
 "Winslow's dude," remarks his father. "The thermometers always below zero for dudes. AS natural sequence Winslow's got left"
 "No, he ain't," grunts Webster, with his mouth full of chocolate. "I saw him hop into the next car. Wins o. K., and don't you forget it."
 Mamma whispers hurriedly to papa, who looks puzzled, and says, "What? How? Where?" and then gazes point blank at me. Mamma looks annoyed, turns red, coughs, shuts her eyes re- signedly, and reapplies the smelling bottle to her nostrils. Papa takes out a loose handful of gold and silver from his trousers pocket, selects a half sovereign, and with the all too whisper: "Silence is golden, my son. Do you catch on !" waits till Webster replies, 'I tumble, pop" and then losses the boy the coin. Estelle produces book with a French title from bag, and papa late number of the Chicago Daily 1News from his breast pocket; mamma sleeps, or pre- tends to, and Webster earns his money..;; and with the exception of an occa- sional "Look, mamma, isn't that like Italy?" or, "How like the Black For est '" from Estelle, which achieves no response beyond some whispered and inaudible remark from Webster. Si- fence reigns until the train rolls into Basingstoke station,
 Southampton" shouts Webster, needless of the cries of the porters. ''Pm free again."
 "lt isn't either, you silly boy. We're not half way yet" says Estelle, after hurried glance at Bradshaw. "Why, if there isn't Winnyw
 "Beastly bore." remarks Winslow, coming up to the window. "Got in wrong compartment. Old lady there, so could not smoke. Must have one whiff," and he lights up. He takes two puffs when the bell rings. Pm sure we shan't any of us mind your smoking" says Estelle, with an appealing look at me, that, had I been the most bigoted non- would have been irresistible. I look my acquiescence with my po- litest bow, and Winslow gets in.
 "Don't see why shouldn't indulge" says papa, rising up and taking two cigars out of the breast pocket of his waistcoat. "Have one, sir?" to me.
 "Awfully bad form," hear Win slow whisper to his sister. "So like father. Of course he'll know we're at once now"
 l take the cigar and look inquiringly at the two ladies.
 "Oh, we don't mind in the very least," say both in breath, i've like it."
 Winslow stamps, grinds his teeth and losses his half-smoked cigarette out of the window.
 "That's right, Winny," says his father, with wink at me. s'Never mix bad and good tobacco together, my son."
 "My son." mutters Winslow. "What B fool 1 was to get imp
 Say, morn- mahl Wins cussin' an swearin' like all outdoors" shouts Webster. "Guess he's afraid this gen. tleman won't think he's an English man."
 After that Winslow sat sulking un- til the next station gave him chance to leave the compartment, which he did. The rest of the journey down to was most enjoyable. l more than reluctantly bid adieu to my